


Lazing on a Sunny Afternoon

by i_know_its_0ver



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-08
Updated: 2011-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-20 07:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_know_its_0ver/pseuds/i_know_its_0ver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Gwaine set off on an errand on a scorching hot day. Irritability, skinny dipping, and sweetness ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lazing on a Sunny Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> a birthday present written for lj user tamed_fox, who wanted Gwaine!

The midday heat was sultry and stifling, like a physical presence wrapping itself around Merlin’s body, making his clothes cling tighter and his chest heave with each thick, laden breath. The shade of the forest did little to cool the sweltering air, which shimmered visibly off the mossy forest floor like rippling water.

Merlin had already rolled up his sleeves as well as he could, though they continually tumbled back down his forearms whenever he moved. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his discarded handkerchief, running it over his neck and ears and anywhere he could discreetly reach. Sweat rolled down his spine, pooling above the waistband of his trousers and causing the coarse wool to stick uncomfortably; Merlin had already given up on peeling it away again and again.

Gwaine had removed his shirt, tucking it into the back of his trousers for safekeeping. He was still sweating, but he looked easy and comfortable in his bare skin. It made Merlin jealous; Gwaine didn’t have to worry about the sun’s rays turning his skin an agonizing bright red. Even Gaius’s strongest salves couldn’t soothe the sting of the sun’s kiss, and so Merlin continued to suffer within the protective confines of his clothes even as they felt like they were melding themselves permanently to his flesh.

“Merlin, how much longer are we going to continue this fool’s errand?” Gwaine asked, sidling up beside the slighter man. “This herb of yours doesn’t seem to be anywhere in sight, and if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather be warding off the heat with a cool tankard of ale.” His easy smile held a small trace of annoyance, the only crack in his normal cheerful manner. The heat must have been bothering him more than Merlin realized.

“It’s a _flower_ , Gwaine, not an herb. A rare flower, which is why we’re out here looking for it, instead of just buying it in the lower town.”

Gwaine nodded, but his frown clearly showed his low opinion of rare medicinal plants. “Be that as it may, it really couldn’t wait for a cooler day?”

Merlin wanted to snap that Gwaine had _volunteered_ to come with him, making some half-joking excuse about bandits and dangerous sorcerers lurking in the forest. Merlin had been grateful for the company, even if he didn’t think he needed protection, so he held his annoyance in check. It was this damn weather, wearing away both of their good humor.

Gwaine did have a point, though, the errand wasn’t urgent. Gaius’s needed the flower for a potion for one of the nobles, but it was merely a cosmetic remedy, not a matter of life and death. Merlin had been more eager to avoid the insufferable stench of the stables on a stifling day, which was where Arthur was bound to send him, given his short temper as of late. Taking up Gaius’s errand had seemed the lesser of two evils.

“Fine,” Merlin conceded with a shrug, feeling weary and defeated and thoroughly put out. They would stop their hunt for today, but that still left the considerable walk back to the castle. Merlin’s shoulders slumped in defeat and he reached for his canteen. It felt suspiciously light, and when he lifted it to his lips only a tiny trickle of water came out, not even enough to ease the thick stickiness of his mouth. He groaned and nearly tossed it away in an uncharacteristic display of frustration.

Gwaine chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder (which only made his tunic stick to his skin beneath the burn of heat radiating off Gwaine’s hand). “Aw, Merlin,” he soothed, ruffling a hand through Merlin’s sweat dampened hair, leaving it standing on end at crazy angles. “Let’s see if we can’t cool down a bit before heading back.”

He sauntered off in the _opposite_ direction of the city, but Merlin was temporarily distracted by the sheen of sweat covering Gwaine’s broad back, and the way individual droplets broke off and trickled downwards as he moved.

“You coming?” Gwaine called back, pausing several paces ahead. He looked over his shoulder with a quirked brow and a look that was somewhere between concern and sly amusement.

Merlin shook his head to dispel those thoughts, then realized Gwaine had asked him a question and tried to nod instead. The jarring movement made him dizzy and he had to blink carefully for a moment to clear his head, but Gwaine was already moving on. Merlin jogged to catch up, his boots feeling heavy as lead.

“Where are we going?” Merlin asked breathlessly, finally catching up. Gwaine just smiled in response, but unlike before it was a genuine, breezy smile. The previous traces of fraying patience seemed to be gone, though Merlin wished he could say the same. Each second Gwaine stayed silent felt like it brought him closer and closer to snapping.

They walked for only a few moments, but to Merlin every step felt like a struggle, every moment like a punishing eternity. Maybe there were sorcerers in this forest after all, he thought, trapping him with some kind of time-slowing spell. But if so it was only affecting Merlin, because Gwaine continued to sidle along amiably, sometimes slowing his pace when Merlin fell behind. Merlin wanted to demand why they were going _the wrong way_ and prolonging their torture even longer, but Gwaine seemed to be walking with a sense of purpose, humming a soft tune in tempo with his stride.

Just as Merlin was about to demand a break for rest they came to a small clearing, where a rushing stream cascaded down a small slope and opened up into a wider basin. Some industrious man or animal had created a small dam, letting the water pool, but not keeping it from flowing freely. The banks were plush and grassy, and the water looked crisp and cool, kept from becoming mossy and stagnant by the constant flow of the rushing stream. The sight of the small pool made Merlin’s mouth water and his skin tingle in anticipation.

“Better?” Gwaine asked, already pulling off his boots and untying his trousers. Merlin nodded, smiling too widely to reply. It was _perfect_.

He hastily began disrobing, pulling his tunic over his head, cringing as the damp material reluctantly pulled away from slick skin. He discarded it in a messy pile along with his neckerchief, and sat down to pull off his boots. The heat had made the leather tight and sticky, and even several desperate tugs were not enough to loosen their hold. Merlin huffed in frustration, preparing for another attempt, when Gwaine appeared kneeling before him. He was already undressed, his hair pushed back impatiently out of his face.

He gave Merlin a fond shake of his head, like Merlin was an endearingly incompetent child. Merlin would have waved Gwaine off and protested his own capability, but the sun was shining through the thick canopy in dappled waves, shifting across Gwaine’s face and shoulders in a mesmerizing pattern. Merlin couldn’t bring himself to do anything more than stare while Gwaine placed one hand carefully under his knee, holding his leg in place while he pulled sharply on the boot with the other. Merlin felt his foot come free and the confining leather slide away, but all he could focus on was the stray strand of hair clinging to Gwaine’s neck as he bent forward, the end curling upward in a soft ringlet.

Gwaine removed one boot and set it aside, then turned to the second. Merlin was conscious of the press of his fingers, burning points of pressure against his skin, even through the thick woven trousers. Gwaine pried off the second boot and set it aside, then pushed back to his feet with a soft grunt of exertion. He held a hand out to Merlin to help him up, but Merlin could only stare dumbly, his brain still struggling to catch up to the dizzying combination of _Gwaine_ and _skin_ and _light_.

Merlin had seen Gwaine in various states of undress before, it wasn’t like the older man had ever been shy about his body. But to see Gwaine fully naked, standing before him with the sun playing over the angles and dips of his muscles, exaggerating the shadows in the hollows where shoulders met neck and thighs melded into hips; well, that was something else entirely. The heat and exertion made every muscle wound and taut, sliding beneath the bronze skin as Gwaine shifted his weight.

Merlin flushed at the direction of his thoughts, and hoped Gwaine would attribute it to the warmth of the day, and not the deeper, searing heat beginning to pool in Merlin’s stomach. Gwaine raised an eyebrow, nodding a hint toward his still extended hand, and Merlin suddenly recollected himself, scurrying to haul himself up.

He didn’t expect Gwaine to pull so hard, and he overbalanced, his bare chest colliding with Gwaine’s. The hand still holding his tightened, and Gwaine’s other hand came up to Merlin’s shoulder to steady him. Merlin felt like all the breath had been knocked out of his lungs, his own free hand clinging to Gwaine’s waist like a lifeline.

Getting up too fast had made him dizzy, and the scent of Gwaine’s skin so close definitely wasn’t helping. It was different from the stale, sweaty scent of the practice grounds, a smell Merlin associated with discarded laundry and polishing armor and a dozen other inane chores. It wasn’t unpleasant or repulsive, it was heady and vital and almost intoxicating.

Merlin pulled back suddenly, alarmed by his own reactions. But Gwaine’s hands remained in place as he examined Merlin with concerned eyes. “I think it’s time we get you into the water,” he said, releasing Merlin, but still hovering close.

Merlin swallowed thickly and undid his trouser ties with fumbling fingers, nearly stumbling as he tried to kick them off. Gwaine laid a steadying hand on his arm and kept it there as Merlin righted himself, then led him towards the pool.

The first touch of water was shockingly cool, jarring against overheated skin. Merlin nearly yelped at the intensity of it, but his body quickly adjusted as he sank down.

The pool was wide but not very deep, perhaps coming up to a grown man’s shoulders at its center. The banks sloped gently, and Merlin kneeled down on the muddy bottom, the water engulfing him to his neck. After the initial sting of shock it felt luxurious, cool and fresh and calming against the pink patches of sun scorched skin.

Gwaine followed behind, but instead of slowly sinking into the water beside Merlin he plunged right into the deepest part, dunking beneath the surface and emerging with a great splash. He stood, shaking the water from his hair like a dog, the droplets splashing against Merlin and making him laugh, as he held up his hands in futile defense.

Gwaine grinned, smoothing the hair back away from his face. He dropped back into the water, floating and flipping and turning about like an agile fish. Merlin was entranced, watching the lithe form glide below the surface, the limbs extending and contracting in precise movements.

Merlin could swim, but just barely. There hadn’t been much water around Ealdor, after all, except for one or two shallow forest pools where he and Will had played as kids. He knew enough to kick and paddle and keep his head above the surface, but he had none of the fluid, agile grace that Gwaine was displaying. He looked like a natural born fish, slicing through the water.

Suddenly Gwaine popped up beside Merlin, startling him out of his thoughts. He’d been so focused on watching Gwaine’s fluid movements that he didn’t notice how close he had gotten. Gwaine gave his hair another shake and settled down beside Merlin with a contented sigh, letting his long limbs float slack in the water and leaning back against the bank.

Gwaine closed his eyes and let out a satisfied sigh, looking completely relaxed and content, like there was no finer place on Earth. Merlin watched him, first from the corner of his eyes, but then turned to stare fully when he realized Gwaine’s eyes remained closed and he could study him unobserved.

Merlin had always enjoyed watching Gwaine. He was charming and amusing and handsome. Merlin understood why so many serving girls and farmer’s daughters had fallen for him (as well as a few noblewomen, if Gwaine’s own accounts were to be believed). Gwaine had been a good friend to him, from that first moment they had met in the tavern, in the middle of a fight that shouldn’t have been Gwaine’s concern. Merlin enjoyed just being in Gwaine’s company, whether they were shining boots or facing deadly enemies.

But in all the time they spent together, Gwaine’s presence had never made Merlin feel like _this_ , like his skin was too tight and his thoughts were swimming about in a tangled order that he could make no sense of. It was _Gwaine_ , comfortable, familiar Gwaine, and yet suddenly it was like Merlin was truly seeing him for the first time. Maybe this is how all those women saw Gwaine, he thought.

He let his eyes roam freely, over the taut muscles of Gwaine’s neck, down the tightly muscled abs, strong from hard work and swordplay. Every new sight made his skin tingle, and suddenly the water no longer felt refreshingly cold.

“You can touch, you know.” The voice startled Merlin from his musings, and he jumped back as if he’d been pinched. Gwaine opened his eyes fractionally, giving Merlin a lazy, inviting look.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Merlin stammered, trying to cover his embarrassment with a silly grin, the kind of grins he and Gwaine usually exchanged like banter. That was normal for them. This, this was not normal. He had to get back on even footing before he completely lost his mind.

“Merlin, it’s okay,” Gwaine said softly. He sat upright, but his posture remained open and relaxed. He examined Merlin with penetrating eyes, displaying that sharpness he occasionally let through, which belied his usual carefree manner. “Come here,” he coaxed, holding out a hand.

Merlin put his hand in Gwaine’s, feeling like he was in a trance, his body moving without his mind’s permission. His mind was yelling at him that this joke had gone too far, that it was time to dry off and get dressed so they could head back to Camelot and their normal lives. But his body was moving towards Gwaine, closing the distance between them with one gliding step.

Gwaine placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and pulled him down to sit beside him, their thighs against each other, feet touching playfully. Merlin continued to stare as Gwaine raised a hand to his cheek, water droplets sliding down his neck and onto his shoulders, making him shiver despite the warm air. Gwaine leaned in slowly, watching Merlin intently, angling his head as he came closer so that their mouths aligned, just inches apart.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice a soft murmur. Merlin tried to nod, but Gwaine’s palm still cupped his jaw. Gwaine seemed to get the idea, though, because he leaned in, closing the distance between them with a firm brush of warm lips.

It reminded Merlin of the day itself, sweltering and enervating and almost surreal in its shimmery beauty. He felt like the rest of the world around them had stopped; the birds in the trees, the tinkling of the rushing water, the shuffling of leaves, all of it had fallen away, and all he could focus on was Gwaine, and the points of contact where skin touched skin.

Merlin felt dazed by the time Gwaine pulled away, his thoughts and body sluggish and relaxed. Gwaine smiled, a new smile that Merlin hadn’t seen before, one full of warmth and affection and secret meanings.

Gwaine’s hand thumbed across his neck and over his jaw, while the other swept up and down his arm and lightly across his chest, exploring lazily, with no pressing intent. It was quiet and calm and comfortable, and while Merlin still felt that heat coiled in his belly like a poised snake, he let it be, enjoying the slow burn. It was like the heat around them, intense but languid.

Gwaine leaned in and kissed Merlin again, soft and quick, then placed another peck on the bridge of his nose before pulling away.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked, giving Merlin an appraising glance. “I think it’s about time we head back to the castle, if you’re alright to walk.” He let his fingers linger, grazing over Merlin’s ribs beneath the water.

Merlin nodded, though he was reluctant to move. It felt like the spell of this place would be broken once they left, once they returned to duties and chores and irritable princes.

Gwaine must have noticed his hesitation. He leaned in and placed another kiss against Merlin’s lips, firm and reassuring. “There will be more where that came from, I promise you,” he said with a smirk, his eyes softening when Merlin returned his smile.

Gwaine stood and pulled Merlin up, helping him balance as they climbed the small sloping bank. He kept his grip on Merlin’s hand as he reached down to retrieve his clothing, only letting go when he realized he would need both hands to dress.

Merlin pulled his own clothes on with regret, cringing as he replaced still damp shirt and tucked his feet back into cramped boots. The refreshing affects of the pool seemed to be fading by the minute, as sweat already began to bead along his temple. He adjusted his belt with a weary sigh and turned to find Gwaine waiting for him, hand outstretched.

Merlin grinned as he took it, letting Gwaine pull him along, away from the clearing and back towards the city.

They walked in silence for a few moments, listening to the crunch of their own feet and the sounds of the forest.

“This flower of yours,” Gwaine suddenly interjected, pulling Merlin closer by their joined hands. “I hear it is very important. I guess we’ll have no choice but to come look for it again, as many times as it takes until we find it.” He shrugged his shoulders, his face a mask of innocence.

Merlin nodded solemnly. “It’s very rare, I’m told. Might take a while to find one.”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of time,” Gwaine said, his expression slipping into a lopsided grin.


End file.
